It Shouldn't Have Happened
by sudoku.addict
Summary: SnapeHermoine. Angsty little piece. My first Harry Potter story. Chapter 4 is up, the plot seems to have inadvertently expanded somehow. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No, sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. tear

This is my first Harry Potter fanfic. I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I just really really really like the character of Snape. The never-gonna-be-true relationship between Snape and Hermoine is also quite intriguing doncha think? Read on Prince Valiant!

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Professor Severus Snape closed the door quickly behind him and breathed a sigh of relief, finally he was shut away from the noise and bustle of the main castle, finally he was able to enjoy the peace and solitude of his private quarters. The reclusive potions professor found a busy common room repulsive, the same feeling he had during his younger years at Hogwarts and the same feeling now. He preferred the calm of his study. He preferred the company of the countless volumes filling his walls and a magnificent mahogany desk.

However, right now, Professor Snape needed the vast volumes of Hogwarts Library. He promptly spun on his heels and disappeared from his private study in a whisk of black robes.

He pulled the heavy doors open a crack and slid inside, deeply inhaling the musty smell of books. Good god, he thought, there must be over two million volume here; I'll never get through them all. Madame Pince's sharp sniff shook him out of his reverie, and he walked briskly straight toward the Potions section.

He paused while browsing the bookshelves. Now where was that book? He knew it had been here but a few days ago, and surely no student could have checked it out; it was much too advanced. The sound of turning pages made him stiffen; someone else was here, here in his own corner, or so he liked to think. That someone was hidden behind two shelves. He craned his neck and glimpsed a back hunched over a desk and a head with very bushy hair poring over a thick, dusty tome. His lip curled in reflex, it was that Granger girl. He edged closer, taking care not to disturb her, and found that she had been hoarding the very book he needed. Drat that infernal little know-it-all, he thought, what in blazes was she doing with such a book?

He carefully approached her and stood silently behind her chair. The silence was overwhelming. He was amazed how totally unaware she was of his presence, for she seemed utterly lost in the book.

He softly cleared his throat. Nothing.

A little louder. Still nothing.

"Ms. Granger!"

She leapt about a foot off the chair.

"Ms. Granger, does your bad posture affect your hearing?"

"Professor Snape! I'm sorry, sir, I didn't hear you."

"Obviously," he sneered, "Now, if you don't mind, I should like to use that book when you're through with it."

She seemed a little hurt, "Of course." She began to hand the book over to him but suddenly jerked it back. "Wait Professor, I have a question to ask you first."

Snape looked as though he would rather be hit in the face with a large glob of bubertuber pus. "Yes?"

"Well, sir," she looked bravely up at him, "I can't seem to understand this one thing. You see, I was researching for the essay you assigned us, the one on Sterling Droughts, and I came across this here." She showed him the book, with her finger pointed to a passage. He read it quickly. "Well, you see Ms. Granger…." And he automatically reverted to teaching mode.

Thirty minutes had passed. He forgot she was a friend of Princely Potter's. He forgot to be nasty towards her and comment sneeringly on her hair and know-it-all attitude.

An hour had passed, two hours. Now they were no longer teacher and student, but peers, colleagues almost. Simply discussing a subject they both found absolutely fascinating.

"No, no Ms. Granger. The draught simply does not work that way. There must be a sufficient quantity of pickled batwing _before _you add the scarab beetles. Otherwise the whole thing will be worthless and you'll end up with a cauldron full of grayish matter."

"But Professor, I don't see the significance of this bit of ginger root. Wouldn't even a few slices of this make the batwing completely superfluous?"

"Absolutely not. I don't know exactly how to explain this to you." He cast a look around the shelves. "There's a book that explains it all, but it's not here, the Hogwarts library doesn't keep a copy because nobody's bothered using it. But I've got a copy, in my private library. We'll go and have a look and then it'll be perfectly clear to y – " He stopped. What was he doing? Was he, Severus Snape, actually asking a student to his private quarters? He blinked, embarrassed, "That is, if you wish, Ms. Granger."

She had paused too, her beautiful brown eyes wide and staring up at him. "Erm, yes Professor, I…I wouldn't mind that."

Snape shook himself. He was being silly. She was, after all, an exceptional student. "Right, well, follow me."

Hermoine kept a few paced behind him as they exited the library together, drawing curious looks from students who were suppose to be pretending to work. Madame Pince nodded curtly to Snape as he passed, tight-lipped and sour-faced.

He led her through a winding labyrinth of tunnels through the cold dungeons and finally stopped before a pair of handsome black doors. He muttered something she could not discern and pushed open the door. "After you," he gestured her inside.

She stepped inside, looked up and gasped. His study was a combination library, bar, and laboratory. Everything was suffused with a calming green light and a clean scent of fresh air. All four walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of ancient-looking books. They all seemed well worn. He seemed to be in the midst of brewing something, for an active cauldron was bubbling happily over a small blue fire. She smiled inwardly as her gaze swept over the bar, so the Potions Master wasn't completely devoid of fun.

She twirled around to see her professor climbing a ladder at one of the shelves. He scanned the titles and pulled down a stained and tattered book.

"Here it is, Ms. Granger." He opened the large volume and quickly flipped through the pages. "Here, read that."

Hermoine took the book and placed it on a nearby table, his desk. She leaned in eagerly and read, her eyes a blur scanning the lines of tiny print.

"Yes, you see this sentence here," he leaned over her shoulder and pointed it out, "that there is the essence of what I've been trying to explain to you."

"Oh yes, I see now." She turned suddenly, facing him, "But sir, I had another qu – " He had not moved from his position over her shoulder and now their faces were but three inches apart. Their eyes locked. In that instant, the book didn't seem to matter anymore, all of Potions could go to blazes for all they cared. Seeing his eyes up close for the first time, she thought them not cold, as she had expected, but burning with a black fire that seemed to consume her. And hers, he thought, were certainly made of the most delicious dark chocolate. His features were quite pleasing, she thought, not at all like his usual self. Perhaps the lack of a sneer made all the difference. The softness of his eyes transformed his whole being. He was actually quite pleasant to look at, she thought, with no embarrassment at her feelings. His eyes glanced over the delicate eyelashes and lingered on the smattering of freckles across her nose, and on down to her lips. Snape, for the second time in his life, felt an overwhelmingly animalistic urge to put his hands on her, to kiss her senseless, to close those deep sienna pools in ecstasy and desire. Her breathing quickened, as did her heartrate. Why wasn't she backing away? she thought. You silly girl, Hermoine, she chastised herself, he's your teacher for godsake. He didn't know how many minutes, or years, they remained there, he was only aware of the sudden contact of their lips as he leaned closer and kissed her full on the mouth. It was not a hard kiss, but gentle, and she did not pull away. None of their other body parts had moved from their original positions. Their hands did not wander over each other's bodies; they did not even move closer or embrace. It was merely their mouths meeting in a furious dance of quiet passion.

Finally, they broke apart, their eyes remaining in their locked position.

"Ms. Granger," his voice was husky, as though he hadn't drunk enough water.

Her chest heaved up and down as she stood there, panting slightly, waiting for him to say something. It was, after all, he who initiated the gesture.

"Ms. Granger…I sorry that happened." For the first time, Severus Snape was at a loss for words. "I'm sorry."

Hermoine's mind was engaged in a raging battle. She knew this was wrong, her upbringing and everything she had ever believed in told her adamantly that she was wrong, wrong to enjoy this and not be disgusted by this. But it had felt so right and she had never been so sure of her actions in all her seventeen years. She felt so at-home, that this man was to be her greatest joy in life. She thought bitterly to herself, you were born two decades too late, darling.

"That's all right, Professor, I was my fault too." And she turned away from him, turned away from the one man she knew she belonged to, and walked out of his office with a pain in her heart too great for words.

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Well? Good, bad, ugly? Which is it? I think I'll keep this as a oneshot for now.

Review please! Pretty please?


	2. Chapter 2

Ok ok, so I've succumb to peer pressure. Sue me. Lots of reviewers have asked for me to continue the story (and I express my deep gratitude for those warm reviews), so, ladies and gents, here's another chapter.

Once again, I own none of this, sadly. That brilliant JKR keeps hogging it all.

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Chapter 2

A week had passed since Professor Snape kissed her that evening in his private study, but Hermoine Granger could still feel his lips upon her's. Every Potions class had turned into torture. Every meal had been unendurable. Her friends had begun to notice her odd behavior every time Snape was around, but did not mention it to her. She didn't even bother attempting to explain her behavior. Who would understand anyway? The majority of the student body thought Professor Snape an unyielding git who went out of his way to make everyone as uncomfortable as possible. Who knew his human side? Who had ever seen his intellectual passion and how attractive it made him? No one ever bothered discussing the topic of Potions with him, except perhaps Dumbledore. But the thought of confessing her feelings to the headmaster was laughable.

This wasn't some silly schoolgirl crush and she knew it. Hermoine had never been one to concern herself with capricious frivolities such as that. She had once felt something for one of her best friends, Ron Weasley, but that had passed quickly. She had always been much too serious about her studies to allow something like romance to meddle with her thinking.

But this wasn't simply a fleeting romance. This was, dare she think it, love. Passionate and unrestricted love. She needed him and she knew it. It was like a tumor gnawing away inside her. Every second she passed without him seemed to stretch an eternity.

During classes, Professor Snape seemed somehow gentler. He didn't reduce his first years to tears any more. He had managed to vaguely compliment a Gryffindor on his potion, and he even once looked at Neville Longbottom with something akin to kindness in his eyes. The students were flabbergasted at this remarkable change. Why, if he kept this up, his reputation of an over-sized bat would soon crumble. And still, his students felt no pity or sympathy towards him. They still remained as cold as ever, but Severus didn't notice. His thoughts were elsewhere.

He was careful not to glance in her direction during mealtimes, lest he lost his self-control. He stared determinedly down at his own plate and escaped from the Great Hall as quickly as possible. Dumbledore had once leaned toward him with a knowing smile and politely asked if he had a slight cold, and he had seized gratefully upon the excuse and muttered a "Slightly, thank you Headmaster," and promptly excused himself before Dumbledore could inquire further into the status of his health.

Classes with his seventh years weren't so bad. She conspicuously avoided his eyes, not at all like the attentive student she was, and he decidedly avoided her's. Neither felt anything save the certainly of the other's presence in the room, but they felt that even without the physical vicinity. She went on dutifully brewing potions and he continued explaining lessons and grading papers.

A month had passed this way.

"Say, Hermoine, Snape doesn't seem to be acting strangely to you, does he?" asked Harry one day during lunch. "I mean, he's hardly docked any points from Gryffindor lately. You don't think Voldemort's done something to him?"

Hermoine snapped her head up and looked at him. "Erm, I dunno, I haven't really noticed much. Has he been acting strangely?"

Harry looked taken aback. "Well, yeah, haven't you noticed?" He looked at Ron inquiringly, who nodded fervently in agreement. "I mean, he's almost…_nice._ Wonder what's been going on…"

Hermoine quickly resumed swirling her spoon around her porridge. "I dunno, maybe he's having a bad hair, err, month."

The two boys laughed appreciatively and moved onto another subject.

Hermoine breathed an inward sigh of relief and felt sick with herself. Thankfully, none of her friends had asked her why she was behaving strangely as well. She thought to herself, I'll simply have to let this thing pass, I can't mope around like this all day, I've got N.E.W.T.S coming up this year, after all. She packed her bags and muttered something about the library to her two friends and departed quickly. As she passed the other house tables, her eyes involuntarily swept up to the head table, as though silently excusing herself. She froze. Professor Snape had taken that exact moment to glance up at the students and eyes met. He lowered the fork halfway to his mouth and her breath quickened. She couldn't look away as his eyes intently bored into her own.

She didn't know how long she stood like that but a sudden peal of laughter from the Ravenclaw table shook her out of her trance, and she hurried out of the hall. That was close, she thought to herself, I could've done something really stupid.

Snape suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore, though he had barely touched his food. He simply sat there, without knowing what to do, without knowing how to act. Dumbledore cast a sly glance toward him, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Hermoine sat alone in the quiet sanctuary of the library, staring at her books without opening them. She chided herself silently for being so silly, while understanding at the same time that her's was a special case in the handbook of relationships. Sighing deeply, she dug up her notes on advance nonverbal spells and proceeded to attempt to get some work done. After all, she had Head Girl duties tonight and wouldn't get much time for studying.

That evening, while patrolling the corridors for midnight stragglers, she ran through the list of Christmas decorations needed this year, the order of mice needed for Professor McGonagal's classes, and the preparations for the next Hogsmeade weekend. Yes, everything was running smoothly; Hermoine was a very able Head Girl, taking charge of everything under her responsibility and executing all orders admirably. Her brief few months as Head Girl had seen wonderful efficiency. The House Elves loved her (she had finally given up all that business of setting them free, and they had taken to her fantastically), the staff was ecstatic at her appointment, her lessons were very interesting, and she had a bright future ahead of her.

Without knowing where her feet were taking her, she ambled around Hogwarts castle, nodding respectfully to Professor McGonagal, who passed her in the corridors, wearing her usual tartan robe. It was late in the evening, she thought to herself, probably thirty more minutes of patrolling and I'll turn in. She looked up to find some staircases that would lead her back to Gryffindor Tower and found herself instead facing a pair of black double doors.

The Potions master couldn't concentrate on anything, not surprising, for this was a constant condition this past month. He paced back and forth, picked up a book, flipped through its pages and found that he had already read it, and resumed his pacing. It was no use, he thought, he might as well go for a walk around the grounds. Anything was better than idling away the hours in his study. Annoyed with himself, he wrenched open the door of his study and found himself facing the very person he had hoped never to meet again.

"Ms. Granger? May I…help you with anything?"

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Muahah. I shall end it there. Not a very exciting chapter but mostly an interlude. Ok, back to that English paper I really need to write.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks buckets for the wonderful reviews! I haven't been doing this for very long, but this fanfic writing business is actually quite fun…heehee.

Erm…don't really know where exactly this plot is meandering yet, but we shall see eh?

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Chapter 3

Wild thoughts flashed through Hermione's head; she should run in the opposite direction as fast as humanly possible, she should Stun him right there and then and erase his memory, she should...she should... She couldn't do anything. Time seemed to stand still; she was worse off than a deer caught in the headlights. Her ears seemed to have gone funny, and none of her usual faculties seemed to work anymore.

He peered down at her, a look of mild shock etched on his calm features. "Ms. Granger? I said, may I help you?"

She blinked at him, "Err – well – erm... You..you see, Professor, I was on – on duty and I don't know how..." She trailed off miserably.

The man jerked his head up slightly and looked curiously at her, "Oh...I see." Seeing her confused and helpless expression, he offered, "Well, Ms. Granger, I was just heading out for a walk in the castle. Perhaps you'd like to accompany me and we'll...talk things over."

Hermione looked up, grateful, and said, "Of course, Professor, we could head toward the eastern corridors." She had already patrolled that area; they would probably not encounter any students. No one would see them together. She shook her head, chastising herself silently and felt of wave of shame at her reluctance to be seen with him. There was nothing wrong with her walking with Professor Snape at this hour, she thought, they were merely on duty in the corridors.

The oddly-matched pair set off. They walked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, taking care not to brush up against one another. Hermione felt so calm; she felt no desire to do anything in particular at the moment, only to walk side by side with him. She chanced a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. His arms were folded carefully within the folds of his robes, his eyes unfocused and contemplative. He walked with an easy stride, graceful and floating, as though his even steps never touched the ground. There was a line of worry etched into his forehead. They continued their promenade through the sleeping castle.

Soon, they had wound their way toward the Astronomy Tower, and both seemed to understand the other's desire for stargazing. They ascended the stone steps and emerged into a crisp night air. Severus Snape breathed deeply. He felt clear-headed now, the refreshing stroll had reawakened his senses and untangled the mess in his mind. He felt ready to talk with her.

Hermione walked to the edge of the tower and gazed happily at the moonlit grounds. This is Hogwarts, she thought, this is the place I love best, my home away from home, my academic sanctuary. It is filled with the people I love and care about, my friends and family. She felt the vague sense that she truly belonged here, that the wizarding world was her true home.

She turned and smiled at her silent companion, "It's a lovely night, isn't it?"

He looked at her with kind eyes, "Yes, Ms. Granger, it certainly is."

An uneasy silence suddenly filled the air between them. Both seemed as though they had something to stay, but neither wanted to be the first to begin.

Feeling a slight pinkness in her cheeks, Hermione turned back towards the chill night breeze. Where in the world was she to begin? Should she speak up first or let him take the initiative? He was the adult here wasn't he? Well, she reminded herself, you are technically of age in the wizarding world as well, you're not a child anymore. Hermione didn't know what she expected out of this stroll. Surely they couldn't actually...what is the term?... 'be together'. A sad smile spread across her soft moonlit features at the very thought. She still had one more year of education to be completed and he...he was her teacher, for Christ's sake.

Severus Snape stood helplessly in the cool night air. For once in his life, he didn't know what to do. Though he had never been popular in his younger days, he had always had the reputation for a good head. Severus Snape always had the answers, and the fact that Potter and his gang had a different set of answers was of no consequence to him. He had never been stumped in academic classes, he had never hesitated a moment in his Death Eater days, he never flinched once at the thought of returning to those circles as a spy...and now? Now something else entirely had conquered his sense of confidence. He almost felt disgusted with himself. She's just a little girl, a student no less, a girl he'd watched grow up from 11 years old. His thin lips curled in a grin, he thought back to the first class he had with her. Her bushy hair covering her thin shoulders, her eager expectant face, her audacity for any possible subject. She had responded unusually well to any and all difficult potions he had thrown her way. Never once had she faltered in his class. What a talented young woman she is, he thought. Talented and beautiful. He stood watching her stray strands of hair blowing in the wind and wondered if she was cold, unaware that he had drifted nearer and nearer to her.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly and turned to face him and found herself in a rather familiar situation. Once more, there he was standing barely feet away from her and it was quite her own fault that she found herself in this position. This time, however, Severus stepped back.

"Ms. Granger, I...I want to talk to you about...that evening in my study."

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Blah, I'll have to think about what happens next. Stay tuned! (Sorry for the short chapter)


	4. Chapter 4

So sorry for the delay everyone; I was a bit preoccupied with another story. (And I wanted to put off actually coming up with a legitimate story line for this one.)

Oh dear, this is going to be one awkward chapter to write...

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Chapter 4

Hermione gulped, a shiver of dread coursing through her body. Here it was, they were about to discuss that fateful evening.

"Ms. Granger," he began, "Firstly, I want to...apologize for my actions that evening. They were highly inappropriate as a teacher to a student, and I regret them incredibly."

She looked up and said in a small voice, "You do?" Her face registered just a hint of hurt, and her eyes looked reproachful.

"Yes of cour – ..." He stopped. What was she saying? His eyes, which had been resolutely fixed upon the ground, now gazed at her penetratingly. "What did you say?"

Hermione took a shuddering breath. "I asked you, sir, if you really did regret your actions that evening. Because...because I didn't," she finished in a quiet voice.

The air between them seemed to be suddenly charged with electricity.

Severus stood there, dumbfounded. "Do you mean to tell me," he began slowly, "that...you..." He stopped. He couldn't say it. Somehow, saying it seemed the spark that would set the air between them on fire. He couldn't bring himself to utter the necessary words.

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed. She was, after all, of age and perfectly capable of thinking for herself. "Professor, we both need to stop pretending. Growing up, I always had the answers. I studied hard and absorbed knowledge well. I was always sure of myself." She looked at the ground. "But, after that evening, I couldn't help but question my thoughts. I tried to suppress it, I really did," she turned to him, tears shining in her eyes, "But somehow, my thoughts always returned...to you."

She spun around in frustration, facing the bitter night once night. "All the values I've been taught to believe in since childhood were crashing down around me. I felt...desire, I suppose...for a teacher. It felt so wrong. And yet, nothing in my life had ever felt more right." She turned to face him. "Professor, you're over 20 years my senior, you're my teacher, I would be expelled if they found out I had a relationship with you in any way, but – and I say it now with more conviction than ever I've put behind words – I love you. Deeply, sincerely, and forever."

His eyes bore into hers with such intensity she thought she would certainly catch fire at that very moment. He stepped toward her, "I can't believe what I'm hearing. You love me," he whispered more to himself than to her. "You don't know how happy I am right now." A genuine smile spread across his face. "Hermione," he breathed her name in relief, "I know now what love truly means. I was just waiting for the right person."

His face suddenly hardened, "What would the staff say? What would the other students say of you? Hermione, you mustn't tell anyone about this. It would ruin your career, you'd always be 'the girl who's with that horrible Snape'. They'd say 'How could such a sensible girl do such a stupid thing?' You'd be ridiculed." He turned, angry with himself and angry with the world. He knew his status in the wizarding world wasn't one of prestige and favor. And she was such a pure and innocent girl.

Hermione smiled. His worrying meant he really did care for her. "_Professor,_" she put an emphasis on the words, "I frankly don't give a shit what other people think. We love each other; that's all I need to know. But, I see your point. While I'm at school, I'll keep this quiet; I am after all still a student." Severus opened his mouth to speak but she put up a hand, "Oh no, don't protest, I'll be careful while at and _only _while at school. Don't worry, I'm a practical person, and frankly I don't see why the hell we can't be open about this after I graduate. We'd just be two adults in love, wouldn't we?" Her face lit up with a smile.

"No Hermione, we wouldn't just be 'two adults', we'd be 'that slimy Potions freak' and 'that wonderful, charming girl who would never make a bad decision in her life'. Your friends wouldn't accept it," he finished quietly.

Hermione laughed, "It's not a bad decision, and my friends, they'll get used to it. Actually Harry and Ron have already noticed quite a change in you." She grinned, "They're actually calling you 'nice'. You'll have to be careful about that and uphold your reputation."

"Reputation?" he said with a mock-stern voice, "Oh right, I must remember to return to my greasy-overgrown-bat image and scare some first years for good measure." He stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. "But how can I think evil thoughts when I'm so in love?" He couldn't think about the future at this moment; he'd put that off till later, and he knew he was going to regret it. But now, nothing mattered except the girl – no, woman – standing before him.

Hermione sighed and leaned into him, "I'm sure you'll manage somehow." Severus dipped his head and placed his mouth softly on her lips. She suppressed a grin and eagerly returned his kiss, encircling her arms around his neck. She felt his tongue brush her lips and parted them. Both lovers were much too preoccupied to hear footsteps coming up the tower.

"Severus! Ms. Granger! What do you think you're doing!"

They sprang apart, looking around wildly for the speaker.

Minerva McGonnagal had stepped onto the stone observation tower, positively shaking with fury in her tartan nightgown. "How _dare _you! Severus, she's a child and a student! Ms. Granger, I thought better of you, what were you thinking? Never in my entire career – you two should be ashamed – fifty points from Gryffindor – would you two please care to explain yourselves!"

Severus looked over at Hermione with an I-told-you-so look in his eyes but found her looking at the ground, looking frightened.

"P – Please Professor, I can explain all this. H – He didn't do anything...it was really my fault..." she trailed off, looking distressed.

Severus stepped forward, "Minerva, this really isn't what it looks like. Err, shall we go somewhere to discuss this?"

The other professor spun sharply around and muttered, "Follow me," and stalked off towards the direction of her office. They distinctly heard phrases like, "Isn't what it looks like – well I can't wait to hear a better explanation – I can't believe those two..."

Hermione's eyes shot heavenward and shakily followed Professor McGonnagal.

She's frightened, thought Severus, she thinks she's going to be expelled and I won't let that happen. He walked up behind her and put a comforting hand around her shoulder and she seemed to relax a bit, though still tense.

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Hmmm? New twist in the story, no? Whaddya think?


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